


dreams (of a song)

by minniepeachbaby



Series: Listening Dreamers [1]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Regency, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Romance, it's most likely disgustingly sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-21 14:47:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7391479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minniepeachbaby/pseuds/minniepeachbaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the Listener hears a song. their Dreamer sees a desire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I see you.

It's where only one half of the soul (one person in the bond) knows who the other half is from the dreams that visit every night. 

Sometimes it's about the present, other times it's about their future, and for the most part, the dreams tell of a happy ending. 

For Jongin, the dreams started out as such. When he was five, he dreamt of a boy with plump cheeks and feline-like eyes leading him through a meadow field, and it made him feel warm. Other times, he dreamt of kisses pressed against his neck and saw pink lips with a playful smile say his name, and it made him feel wanted even though there were no sounds. They weaved together a story and young Jongin, a prince to a small kingdom, held onto each dream like an anchor to a happier future. 

The dreams came and went, leaving hope and love in his heart until one night, when he was shy of sixteen, they turned dark. Faces and screams meshed together and they were never clear except for the single figure that stood a distance away with black flames curling around his feet and something like scarlet down his arms. The nightmares woke him with his own screams and ran his throat hoarse as he curled into his tears, wishing for the sight of his beloved turning against him to vanish. 

(Minseok's name falls from his tongue like a litany during those nights). 

 

 

 

Fire sparked and devoured the silk curtains his mother loved so much when his age turned twenty, and his wrists were imprisoned between iron before he was dragged from him broken home. The screams of his people tear at his heart and Jongin felt so helpless and broken when the soldiers brought a child, barely three, to a blade. 

He screamed his surrender and sold his body before the innocent blood is spilt. The chains tore him into a stumbled walk, bringing him away with only memories of his beautiful home vanishing within the flames.

 

 

They find Minseok's name carved into his inner thigh upon reaching the palace, and he's told to never speak or his kingdom would pay the price. How they found him, he couldn't understand. 

It isn't as if Minseok knew him. 

He didn't understand until he caught sight of auburn hair and a strong set of shoulders hidden beneath fine clothing, and the delicate hand tucked into his beloved's elbow.

Minseok could not be his.

 

 

 

"You will have a new name, and you will adopt it as your very own while casting out your other if you know what is best for your kingdom."

Jongin could only scowl at the king in silence from where he stood, clothes a tattered cloth hanging onto his shoulders, wrists still bound by chains.

"The four kingdoms would have been at war with each other if this marriage had not taken place. I will not have it jeopardize by your existence. Unfortunately, it is too late now to be rid of you. Therefore, you shall stay here where the guards can keep an eye on you. If you are caught interacting with my son, your people will suffer for it."

 

 

 

The dreams still visited him every night, and by now with his age, Jongin was able to choose which memories would come to him.

He chose the ones where innocence was still evident in Minseok's eyes, and the adoration still so fresh. They kept his heart from breaking too soon, even as Jongin woke in quiet tears.

 

 

 

Sometimes, Jongin wondered of the melody Minseok must hear. Wondered what it sounded like and if there would ever be a day when he would get to know it as well. But of course, his mind stopped him short because despite of his cracking self, his people… _his family_ …they depended on his resistance. 

No matter how much it shattered his sanity.

 

 

A month passed before he could no longer take the solitude of his room and requested to be of service anywhere in the palace. It didn't matter where, so long as he wasn't required to stare endlessly out a window or at the walls until it sickened him.

The king granted his request and Jongin found himself milling about in the kitchens after all the servants have retired to their bunks, scrubbing the pots and pans, on his knees to makes sure the floors were free of stains.

It should have been degrading, but the tasks kept him far from the thoughts of Minseok, and since it required his wake, the dreams could no longer distracted his aching heart.

 

 

He should have known fate was more sadistic, but words and actions didn't come quick enough when he sees the prince standing at the kitchen entrance, dressed in hardly anything but his night robe.

Every part of his being screams at him to both run or tell Minseok his name, but his heart and mind stop him from going too far, leading him to stand instead.

His cheeks warm momentarily when he thinks about how Minseok would react if he knew his Dreamer was a hostage prince now-turned cleaning boy.

"I wasn't aware we had servants clean after nightfall. What is your name, boy?"

Jongin hasn't used his false name since the throne room.

"Haneul, your grace."

"Haneul…I've never heard nor seen you before. Are you new to the palace? Is that why you are cleaning when everyone is asleep?"

How is one to act unsuspicious at a time like this. In this situation?

So jongin doesn't and stands perfectly still, eyes to the floor and feels his face heat when he realizes his feet are bare.

He doesn't see the prince's frown. "Will you not answer me?"

Well damn. "I-...I do not know how to answer, your grace."

"You don't know _how_? I merely asked if you were new. Is that so hard?"

"Of-...of course not, your grace. Yes, I am new. Your grace."

Jongin never realized silence could be as daunting as this.

"Will you tell anyone that I was here, Hanuel?"

Jongin shook his head.

"You won't whisper and gossip with the other servants that you caught the prince sneaking down to the kitchens for a midnight snack? Nne of that?"

Another shake.

And then more silence (he's going to die).

Fingers come into view and Jongin had half the mind to not whimper, instead letting the prince guide his face up until he's blinking back at auburn eyes crinkled in an amused smile. He can't breathe.

"There you are," the prince - _Minseok_ \- whispered. "Are you sure you're a servant here?"

Jongin swallowed and whispered back, "Yes, my lord."

Something changes, tilting dark in those beautiful eyes.

"My lord…" Minseok echoes, though he doesn't move away and it's _so very hard_ not to melt into his Listener's touch. "I've never liked that title very much…"

"Why?"

He's going crazy, jongin swears it.

The prince probably thinks so too because he's looking at him in surprise. "Because it is a reminder that I will not be my own any longer. That I am a prisoner within these walls, never to be set free. Perhaps servants, such as yourself, crave for titles and riches, but you know nothing of the chains that hold people like me down, would you?"

Jongin wants so terribly to tell him that he does understand. Tell him it is because he understands that he can never say.

Instead, he's mortified by the wetness that blurs his vision, blinking them away to see the prince's amusement slip and replaced with concern.

He stays still, and let's gentle fingers brush the tears away.

"Why are you crying? Have I hurt you?"

How many times must he shake his head tonight, Jongin wonders.

"No. It is just that my prince sounded so terribly sad, and I can do nothing to change it."

_My prince._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In a pair, there is a Listener and a Dreamer. The Listener hears a song that is uniquely the Dreamer's, while the Dreamer will see dreams uniquely of the Listener's. However, the only way one can hear/see their soulmate's song/dream, is when they are face-to-face with their soulmate and hear their soulmate's name (vice versa). Their soulmate's name has been etched onto their body since maturity (18-20), so when either one hears the other's name, it 'syncs' their souls together.
> 
> comments are much appreciated~


	2. You heard me.

He's going to go mad.

Minseok, the prince, the Listener of Jongin's song, he is _everywhere_.

Jongin is almost tempted to conclude that the prince is looking for him. Except, besides the prince's (conveniently) constant appearances, it never appears that way. Which is why Jongin dawns the clothes of servants all the time now.

 

 

"Have you been avoiding me?"

Jongin is determined to keep scrubbing until solitude is returned to him once again.

The prince apparently doesn't share the same sentiment.

"Will you not answer your prince, Haneul?" Minseok asks, and Jongin can hear the smile in his voice.

"I could not avoid you even if it is truest my desire, your grace," Jongin quips, voice strained with each scrub. "I am a servant, and therefore much takes up my time when I am not here. You'll have to forgive me for not always being present before you on my knees."

It's only when the words slip from his mouth does Jongin realize he'd gone to far. He waits for the anger, the demand for his insolence to be rid of, and yet, his heart knows better. After all, he's known Minseok all his life. That is, perhaps, the sole reason the prince's laughter - full and free - does not surprise him.

"For a servant, you're quite daring."

Jongin blushes. "My apologies, your grace."

"And very proper." 

That catches him off guard.

He looks up slowly and nearly looks down again at the way Minseok is staring at him, as if the prince wanted to tear away into his being. 

"I...beg your pardon?"

The prince is seated on the stool by the stove, has been sitting there even before Jongin had come down from his room, nibbling away at the small blocks of cheese and a book in one hand. Now the book sits forgotten and face down on the prince's thigh, the cheese long gone after Jongin had made his first clean scrub around the kitchen.

"You're too polite to be a servant," his prince starts, eyes calculating and narrowed, making Jongin having to tamper down his need to squirm away. "Mannerisms are expected in the palace, but I have... _watched_ the way you move about. You were trained, taught meticulously how to stand, walk, and hold yourself. The maids and servant boys still stumble over their words, and yet, with the way you speak, it is as if someone had made you read passage after passage until you would pronounce every word with perfection without a skip or stumble. Similar...to how I was taught."

Jongin felt the air hitch itself in his lungs and refuse to move through his throat despite how much he needed it to. He hardly noticed his fingers clenched and wrung in the towel. Only the thrumming and pounding in his chest and ears and the way the fire lights played against Minseok's pink lips.

He must have been frozen for too long because the prince is calling his name. Fake as it is, (be damned as it was) Jongin forced himself to breathe again and held himself together.

"Will that be all, your grace?"

"Why have you not called me that since the first night?"

...what?

"You called me 'my prince'. You haven't since then."

Oh.

"It isn't-...why...?"

Minseok's expression softens into something fond, something Jongin can't place, but he aches to touch him.

"Why indeed." Fate is so, so cruel. "Perhaps because it felt right."

 

 

 

It's been five days since and Jongin is now deliberately avoiding the prince. He supposed being begged by the cook that the floors have been exquisite and that the pots have never sparkled so much, that he didn't need to do more, helped. Of course, as did staying in his room.

Five days of doing nothing but flicking through the small library in his room, only ever leaving for a bath, and Jongin was now impatient and mildly agitated. Again.

There are two gardens that surround the palace. One circling the front and could be a small forest of its own, and a smaller, more delicate piece of beauty tucked away in the west wing. It was far enough from the kitchens that Jongin, dressed in a light robe, deemed it safe to travel from his room.

(He was required to have a guard wherever he went. As much as it defeated the purpose of some privacy, Yifan's presence was not unpleasant.)

Tucked away beneath the tall maple tree, Jongin let himself breathe, almost immediately drifting when the night's breeze kissed him.

He would not sleep however, not right now.

With a long sigh, he opened his eyes and looked down at his lap where the robe had parted, giving away a slither of tanned skin, and he touched the beginnings of the name etched into his thigh.

_Minseok's name..._

"So you _have_ been lying to me."

The gasp escaped him before Jongin could strangle it back.

It was a pity the night hid those sweet auburn orbs.

"Your grace..."

"Prince Jongin."

 

 

 

He should move, tell Minseok that he's mistaken, that he's no prince. Or he should beg at least, ask Minseok to not say that he knows of Jongin's existence. For the sake of his people.

Instead, he sits still and feels shockingly calm when Minseok approaches him slowly, each stride bringing forth the desire he'd so carefully repressed. Jongin belatedly realizes that it's because the prince had said his name.

"You knew this entire time."

Minseok shrugs as he sits down beside Jongin, frowning when the other flinches back reflexively. "My father lost most of his wits when my mother passed, I never imagined he would keep my Dreamer locked away in the very castle I sleep in and assume it would work. Not to mention, no matter how small a kingdom, an invasion and abduction of a royal is no quiet matter."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Jongin whispered, mind reeling and chest hurting. This could all have been avoided.

It must have shown because suddenly there are fingers slipping between his and lips pressed into the back of his hand.

_This must be a dream...a dream that will never happen..._

"I had to make sure that there would be no more victims from my father's foolishness," Minseok said slowly, sounding pained and, gracious-, _guilty._ "You and your people suffered a loss because of a weak king's fear. In order to correct the mistakes already made, time and negotiations to cancel my previous engagement had to be done in secret from my father. I had to be sure that when I ask for your hand, no war and no more people would be put to the blade."

"Ask-..." Had he heard correctly? What sort of-

"It isn't a dream, Jongin," Minseok whispered, gentle, loving. Grace, he needed to stop crying so much. It seems that's all he's been capable of doing.

"How do you know?" It comes out weak and Jongin only has a moment to feel absolutely mortified before Minseok kisses him.

His prince's laughter is just as sweet and Jongin wants nothing more than to curl up in it.

"I've always known" Minseok says against his lips, and Jongin cries harder, fingers clenched in the lapels of Minseok's jacket. "Ever since I heard your song when I was eight. I've always known."

 

 

_His prince. His Listener. His Minseok._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> end~
> 
> it's vague and rather rushed(?), but this was originally a piece i had written for a beloved friend of mine. we share and flip-flop around au's and ideas often enough that they become full fledged fics if we had enough patience to sit down and edit them into coherency.
> 
> i hope those that read this enjoyed it. comments would be much appreciated~


	3. bonus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> +bonus snip-bit  
> ++post-angst: some fluff and hints of intimacy  
> +++jongin loves lace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> head canon for jongin: he has teal, ice blue eyes

"My love, will you stop fretting?"

It's been nearly an hour and his Dreamer as yet to show himself. Jongin has always been shy, something Minseok had picked up from his Song, so really, all the king can do now is sigh fondly and wait a little longer for his love to come from the changing room.

He doesn't get to settle too far into the armchair before Jongin whisks into their bedroom, a flurry of robes and silks trailing behind him. Minseok doesn't catch a glance before a _flump_ collapses into their bed.

 _He does make an adorable mound_ , Minseok muses as he stands and makes his way to the bed, smiling at the dark locks peeking from the covers.

He touches the mound gently, careful not to startle his Dreamer. "Won't you let me see?"

Beautiful blue eyes peek up at him and Minseok has to do everything he can not to tear the blankets away and kiss his husband breathless.

"This isn't proper."

Jongin sounds petulant; like a child who refuses his vegetables. 

Minseok is amused and so very in love. "What isn't?"

"This-" Flushed cheeks does wonders for Minseok's straining control. "...I look silly..."

The king smiles and leans down to press a kiss between his love's eyes. "Won't you let me decide?"

He's met with silence and diverted eyes.

Well then.

"Perhaps...I should sing for you...?"

Ah, those eyes have returned to him, flashed with shock, slight agitation, and...lust.

"Kim Minseok."

He'll take it as a yes.

 

 

The king decides to purchase more lace for his Dreamer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> coughs. When the Listener bonds with their Dreamer, the Dreamer is able to hear the song, and depending how the Listener is feeling, their emotions, desires, stresses are transferred as well. Minseok, here, uses it as a way to reduce Jongin into a wanton mess without hardly touching him.


End file.
